A Long, Hot Summer
by rjr60
Summary: A strange Soc approaches Ponyboy with a request he finds he doesn't want to turn down. But will he regret it?
1. Chapter 1

**chapter one**

**Ponyboy's POV**

It was a normal Sunday morning at the Curtis house. Mickey Mouse was blaring from the TV, competing with Elvis singing about Teddy Bears on the radio. Two-Bit and Steve were arm wrestling to see which device would be turned off, which meant that both would keep going for the foreseeable future. Soda egged the other two on, laughing, his golden hair flowing down his back like the mane of a greasy lion. Darry sat in his easy chair, the one that had once belonged to dad, trying to read the sports page, and I grabbed up the comics, flopping down on the sofa and trying to ignore the familiar confusion and make sense of Alley Oop and The Cisco Kid. Later, we would go to the empty lot on the corner and play football. Tim or Curly might come around, though we had seen less and less of them in the months since Dally died. It would be a quiet, ordinary Sunday.

Then came the knock at the front door.

No one knocks at our front door. Even Tim and Curly, if they happened to drop around, would just open the door, holler "Yo, Curtises!" and walk in. Steve and Two-Bit didn't even knock or holler; they treated the place just like it was their own. The only people who ever knocked were the occasional official visitor, Darry's boss, or one of Soda's girls, but no one else, except... My eyes flashed to Darrys face, worry exploding in me when I saw him frowning. It would be really unusual for the State Caseworker to come on a Sunday, but unusual didn't mean impossible.

The guys sprang into action. Two-Bit disappeared into the kitchen, probably to hide his beer; Steve snapped off the tv, then turned the radio down, changing the station to a classical music/news setting that normally would have had even Darry protesting; Soda picked up the clothes and dishes that were strewn around the room, carrying them to the kitchen and the laundry room beyond. I grabbed the newspaper scattered around Darry's chair, folding it into a neat pile and placing it on the battered coffee table. All of this took only seconds; it was like a carefully choreographed ballet, though we had not practiced or even spoke of it before today.

As soon as everything that could be done, was done, Darry rose without haste to his feet and went to the door.

I always admired how calm and cool Darry stayed in situation like this. I could feel my own heart beating like I'd been running an event at a track meet, and even the guys in the kitchen were whispering and peering nervously out at us as they sat around the kitchen table, dealing cards for a game of Crazy Eights. The tension in the room had ratcheted up about two hundred percent, but Darry's face, as he moved towards the door, showed nothing but his usual tranquility. I knew that he had to feel the tension at least as much as I did, but his face showed no sign of it.

I watched as he pulled the door open. If I hadn't been paying such close attention, I would almost certainly not have seen how he stiffened, just enough to let me know that the danger was not past. "Can I help you?" he asked, in his coldest voice; from experience, I can tell you that Darry's coldest voice makes an iceberg feel like a day on a tropical island.

"I hope so," a light, feminine voice said. "I'm looking for Ponyboy Curtis. Do I have the correct address?"

There was a moment of hesitation. Even before Darry answered, I was rising to my feet. "You do," Darry said, and I could hear the reluctance in his tone. Darry always wanted to protect us, even when the danger existed only in his mind. He couldn't protect me from everything, though, and he turned his head and said, "Come here, Ponyboy," still in that deadly quiet voice.

When I got to the door, I could instantly see why he reacted to her that way. She wasn't a state caseworker, I could see that right away, but that didn't change the fact that she was a Soc. Her dress was simple, but in a way that was too expensive even for one of the state workers; I bet her shoes alone would have cost a week of Darry's salary. She had ash blond hair, braided and pinned on top of her head in a fancy style, and she wore makeup that was so well suited to her face that you could hardly tell it was there. She carried a little clutch purse that matched the shoes precisely, and over her shoulder I could see a tuff red Mustang parked at the curb. She was beautiful, and classy, and as completely out of our reach as if she were on the moon instead of on our porch.

"I'm Ponyboy Curtis," I said, trying - and failing - to sound as tuff as Darry always did.

I had never seen this girl before. She was a complete stranger to me, so I guess I expected the standard kind of greeting, hello, nice to meet you, all that. That's not what I got, however. Instead, she tilted her head a little to the side, blinked up at me with soft brown eyes, and said, "You're a little small, aren't you? Do you even know how to _ride_ a horse?"

If she had just asked the first question, I probably would have gotten mad, mostly 'cause I know the guys in the kitchen could hear every word and would never let me live it down. But the second query, coming from a girl I had never seen before and who had no reason that I knew of to care if I could ride or not, just caught my funny bone. I burst out laughing and kept on until I had to hold on to the door jamb to keep from falling over.

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**So, who do you think the Soc is... and what does she want with Ponyboy? Reviews of all types are welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

**chapter two **

**Ponyboy's POV**

To do her justice, the girl, whoever she was, didn't lose her temper. She just waited, more or less patiently, until Darry said my name in the gruff way that means it's time to pay attention. Then I straightened up; Darry wasn't noted for his patience.

"I'm sorry, Ponyboy. I didn't mean to be rude, or sound like a random idiot. It's just I was trying to remember everything I needed to ask to find out if you're the right person for the job, and when I opened my mouth, exactly what I was thinking came out."

"It's ok. I know other people who have the same problem," I said, thinking of Two-Bit. "And I'm sorry for laughing; it's just that what you said, coming from someone I'd never even met before, struck me as - uh -" belatedly, it occurred to me that I was just reinforcing that I had been laughing at her.

"And so it should," she agreed tactfully. "Let's just start over again, shall we?" I nodded, eager to agree. "I'm Olivia Conti." She put out her hand and I shook it, noting how soft her skin was.

"I'm Ponyboy Curtis, and this is my older brother Darry. Darry is also my legal guardian."

She looked up at Darry. "Mr Curtis," she said, offering him her hand as well.

"Just Darry," he said, with a small, cautious smile.

"All right," she agreed. "I'm here to talk to Ponyboy about a summer job. Could I come and we can discuss the details?"

"Yes, certainly," I said, cutting off any possible disagreement from Darry. He might take it in his head to become difficult, and I at least wanted to know why she was there and what kind of job it was. I let her go ahead of me into the living room, and as we passed Darry, he nudged me in the ribs almost hard enough to make me stumble. I rolled my eyes at him, but I knew this as his way of scolding me for laughing. If this had been someone else, I could really have screwed things up.

"Your name was given to me by a girl named Sherri Valence," she began, once we sat side by side on the sofa. "I believe that you attend the same high school she does?"

"Yeah, I know Cherry. She's a cheerleader, so we don't exactly run in the same circles, but I know who she is."

"Her mother goes to the same church I do," Olivia said. "The minister suggested I might ask Mrs. Valence for suggestions, since her daughter goes to the local high school. Cherry said that you once told her that you could ride, and she thought you might be available for employment."

I gritted my teeth, knowing that this was a fancy way of saying that I was poor enough to need the money. "That's true, under the right circumstances," I answered. "Why don't you tell me what you have to offer?"

She sighed. "I'm house sitting for my brother this summer," she said. "He owns a ranch not far from here, not huge, but enough room for a small herd of cows and a few horses. It's the horses that are the problem. Arrangements have already been made for the cows, and a local rancher is going to cut and bale the hay for a percentage of it. His son was going to spend the summer caring for the three horses, but yesterday, he – the son, I mean – fell off the ladder leading to the hayloft in his father's barn. This accident resulted in a fractured tibia, which will probably leave him able to ride again just about the time school starts again in the fall. And that leaves me with a big problem."

"You don't have anyone to take care of the horses," I guessed, not that it was really a guess. She smiled at me as if I had just answered the million-dollar question, though, so I guess she didn't think it was too stupid.

"Exactly. I need to put someone someone completely in charge of the horses, from mucking out the stalls to ordering supplies. You'll need to exercise them, groom them and feed them; since I know almost nothing about horses, I'll even be relying on you to call the vet or the farrier if they're needed. The hours would be long, but the pay would be generous, and there would be a bonus at the end of the summer if the job's done well."

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but Darry beat me to it. "Exactly where is this ranch located?" he asked.

"About 30 miles north of the city, just outside Bartlesville," she replied. My heart sank, and Darry was shaking his head.

"There's no way I could get him to and from a job that far away," he said.

"It would take too long, even if my truck would stand up to it."

"Of course not," she said, and even though I was on Darry's side in any real quarrel between them, I thought it was funny that she addressed him in tones usually reserved for a six-year-old who's been eating the crayons. "I may not have made myself clear, but I always intended that Ponyboy would stay on the ranch for the duration of his employment."

"Stay on the ranch?" I asked cautiously, not sure I had heard correctly. She was offering me my dream job, taking care of horses, for good pay _and_ room and board? A summer in the country? It seemed too good to be true, especially since I had failed to find a single job opportunity in this area. In the main parts of the city, my hair and clothes marked me as a Greaser and therefore unreliable, and none of the stores or businesses in this neighborhood were doing well enough to take on extra help.

"So how good is this pay you're offering?" Darry asked. I think he would already have refused – I could tell that Olivia made him uncomfortable - but he could see in my eyes how much I would like to be able to take the job.

"The pay would be one hundred and twenty-five dollars a week for eight weeks, with employment to begin immediately and run through the first week in August. In addition, a room and three meals a day, with beverages and snacks, would be provided. As I mentioned, there would be a five-hundred-dollar bonus at the end of employment for a job well done."

"And who determines that, I wonder?" Cynicism just oozed from Darry's voice, and even though I understood that he had been burned in the past, it wouldn't have surprised me if she was insulted.

" It's true that I don't know enough about horses to decide whether a bonus was earned," she answered, as if he were doing her a favor by mentioning it."I might easily give too much weight to a small flaw, or even not see a major problem because I don't know what to look for. It would be best, I think, to have the vet check the horses. If he determines that they have been reliably fed, faithfully exercised, and well-groomed, then I will pay the bonus."

Darry nodded reluctant agreement. "That sounds fair," he said. "How much time off would he get?"

"That's another problem," she answered. "Since I know nothing about horses, I would need for Ponyboy to stay on the ranch at all times, except when he goes to town to get feed and supplies. You and – didn't Cherry say there was another brother? – would be welcome to visit at any time whatsoever, even spend the night. As long as you weren't destructive, I would have no objections. There's a pool, so you could swim, and if you like to ride, you would be welcome to, under Ponyboy's supervision."

That, of course, is when Soda sauntered in.

**You've heard the phrase 'to good to be true?' I wonder if Ponyboy should be looking the gift horse (pun intended!) in the mouth?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_**Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you earlier... this is set in the summer between Pony's junior and senior year, well after the events in the book. **_

_Ponyboy's POV_

I knew, of course, that Soda and the others had been shamelessly eavesdropping. Olivia sat on the sofa in such a way that I could see the open kitchen door beyond her shoulder, and I had seen the guys watching her and making lip-smacking motions in my direction. Well, she was a doll, all right, but I wasn't getting any vibe at all about her being interested in me, other than as an employee.

When she started talking about my staying on the ranch, I saw Soda lean over and grin at me. I know he thought Darry kept me on way too tight a leash, and though I kinda understood why, I have to admit I thought so, too. A summer on my own might just be a way to make him see that I could take care of myself.

Besides, come on. A private pool? I've never even swam in a private pool!

"Sounds like all kinds of fun to me," Soda said, emerging from the kitchen. "Almost makes me wish that I didn't have a full-time job myself, so I could have this job."

He smiled at Olivia, and I felt myself tense. Over the last few months – ever since Sandy, actually – Soda had begun to use his charm and good looks in a way he never had before. A deliberate way. Most of the girls he did that to didn't really deserve any better, but I hated to see it, anyway, because it meant that Soda still hurt for the girl who had cheated on him. And now, I'd hate to see it because Olivia seemed like a nice girl, and I didn't think it was right to treat her so casually.

To my surprise, she had no reaction to Sodapop. She turned her head and looked at him when he spoke, but there was no flicker of awareness of his movie star good looks, not to mention the personal magnetism that had made girls giggle and act silly when he was around since before he was old enough to leave the house alone. He might as well have been just another guy.

Though I was on Soda's side, part of me was glad to see that.

"We'd have to see the ranch before we could make a final decision, of course -"

"We could do that now, if you like," she offered quickly. "I have my car; we could drive out, check out the ranch and let you see what Ponyboy would be getting into. Whatever you decide, I'll make sure you get back to town. Ponyboy, do you have a driver's license?"

"Yes, I've been legal to drive for awhile now," I answered.

"Good. If you decide to take the job, I'll let you bring your brothers back with you. That way, you can pack your stuff and come back to the ranch when you're ready. Tomorrow or the next day." She smiled at me, and for a minute I thought it might really be that easy to arrange.

"Can we all go?" Soda asked. "I don't have to work today."

"I do," Steve said, emerging from the kitchen. "I'd better get going; I'm supposed to be there by noon."

"I can go, though," Two-Bit said, following Steve.

"By the way, Olivia, these are my friends, Steve and Two-Bit, and my other brother, Sodapop," I said, pointing to each of them in turn. Steve flashed her a smile and waved as he left, but Two-Bit was more direct.

"I'm Two-Bit, and I really like blondes," he said, smiling at her what he imagined was a winning way.

"Yes, but the question is, do they like you?" Olivia popped back. All of us laughed, even Two-Bit, who undoubtedly figured he would have plenty of chances to try again.

Darry drove. He handled the Mustang with the same tuff ability I remember him handling mom and dad's sedan. He rarely got to _enjoy_ driving, anymore; his old pickup had no power steering and was just about worn out; more and more, driving it took brute strength and knowledge of its particular quirks.

The 'stang, on the other hand, was a honey of a car. It was a convertible, and the afternoon was sunny, so we put the top down, and turned the music up. I was a little surprised to see that Olivia sang along with a lot of the songs; not just Elvis, but the Beach Boys and the Rolling Stones, too. I would have figured her for a Beetles fan, but maybe I was jumping to unpleasant conclusions just because she was a Soc. I leaned my head back and enjoyed the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.

We had driven for almost an hour, when I saw Olivia try to say something to Darry. We were cruising along at sixty, though, and the wind whipped the sound away before he could hear her. I started to lean forward to direct his attention to her, but she put her hand on his arm. When she did, I saw his hand tighten on the steering wheel until the knuckles were white.

_Oh_, I thought. _I get it._

He turned towards her, his face completely blank, and she pointed to a sign up ahead, indicating where he should turn. It was a dirt road, maintained in surprisingly good condition by Washington county. When we had driven down that road for about three miles, we came to a driveway flanked by two tall columns. Olivia touched Darry's arm again, and directed him to turn in. The driveway was paved, and curved gracefully between rows of tall beech trees.

"It reminds me a little of the road to Tara," I said, before realizing that the others wouldn't know what I was talking about and would probably start teasing me about my Gone With the Wind obsession if I tried to explain.

To my surprise, Olivia smiled at me. "I often think so, too. Except it's longer... and I think it was magnolias or something leading up to Tara." The other three looked at us blankly, but I was pleased to find another fan.

Then I saw the house up ahead, and all other thought left my head.

This house was _huge!_

**All reviews are greatly appreciated. All I ask is that hate or love it, you tell me why, because I'd like to get better at writing, and that will help me. Another chapter soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

** Chapter Four**

** Darry's POV**

The house was bigger than any private residence I'd ever seen, at least thirty-five thousand feet. Since I've been working construction, I'd been on the roofs of some of the nicest houses in Tulsa, but I hadn't ever seen a house like this one. This even dwarfed the one in the book Pony was always going on about, the one he and Johnny read together. Looking at it, I estimate it probably had ten, maybe twelve bedrooms. A library. A formal dining room, and a breakfast room, for casual dining. The kitchen would be huge, gleaming with every known electric appliance. The bedrooms would be big, with huge walk-in closets, and each would have its own bathroom...

I hadn't really hoped, of course. What would a Soc like her want with me, anyway? I couldn't afford a girlfriend, not in terms of time or money. She was so very beautiful; she reminded me of that actress – what was her name? - the one who had married the prince. A girl like that wouldn't be interested in a guy who couldn't find the time, or the extra money, to take her for a cup of coffee. Even if she didn't have the local prejudice against Greasers, I had nothing to offer a girl like her.

"Turn here," she instructed me; the drive forked, part of it curving to make an elegant circle under the portico, the other continued straight and disappeared behind the south wing of the house.

"This is yours?" Evidently Ponyboy had recovered from his surprise, and I cringed a little at the awe in his voice. He sounded like a country kid seeing the city for the first time, and although that was just the opposite of what we were doing here, in all the ways that mattered, the comparison fit. Ponyboy didn't even have my limited experience with nice houses, much less a place like this.

"No," she answered. Was it my imagination, or was her voice a little terse? "This place belongs to my brother. I'm just house sitting for the summer." As we passed the corner of the house, she pointed to the bulky building on our right. "The first building is the garage. The barn is behind it."

Getting there presented no difficulties; the road curved around, and I just followed it. To the left, a pool glimmered, its waters an enticing blue, and in the rearview mirror, I saw Ponyboy smile as he looked at it. If he ended up working here, I knew where he would spend his leisure time.

3

**Olivia's POV**

I knew they would find the house overwhelming, but that didn't really matter. Ponyboy didn't have to come inside at all if he didn't want to. At this point, I was so desperate to find someone to take care of the horses, I would have offered to cater his meals in the stables if I needed to (Just kidding. I think).

I didn't believe I would need to, though. I saw Ponyboy's face when I told him the salary I offered, which was well above the salary a boy his age could expect to receive, even without the bonus. I didn't think Ponyboy was greedy, but he lived in a poor family, so the value of money became clear to him early. He knew quite well that what I was offering could make a difference to his family; even after they bought school supplies and other end-of-summer necessities, it would be a nice nest egg for them. Even allowing for the long hours he would have to put in, it was a good deal.

Besides, I had a pool. How many kids in Ponyboy's situation ever got the opportunity to have their own private pool for the summer?

So I was certain that if he _could_ take the job, he would. All I needed to do was to find a way to persuade his oldest brother that it was a good idea, and the deal would be done.

Unfortunately, I didn't think that persuading Darry of anything was going to be exactly a cake-walk. He reminded me of my brother in some ways. Oh, not his coloring, or his size, but the determined line of his jaw and the flinty obduracy of his eyes. I could sometimes talk Enrico into something if I caught him before his mind was made up, but once his decision was made, never. Pigheadedness didn't even begin to cover it, and all the signs indicated that Darry would be like that, too. My only hope was to persuade him _before_ he made up his mind, if it wasn't already too late.

So I smiled as nicely as I could at Darry as I directed him to the barn. He stopped in front of the building and we all piled out. I was surprised to see the middle brother, Sodapop, look around with as much interest as Ponyboy. Soda had impressed me as being a bit of a light-weight, all surface charm and good looks. Maybe there was more to him than I realized? I made a note not to judge too quickly before I turned my attention to Ponyboy, and we all walked toward the barn.

Two-Bit made an effort to walk beside me, but I forestalled him by positioning myself between Darry and Ponyboy. I wasn't worried about him, though; I sensed no real harm from Two-Bit.

I knew I had nothing to be ashamed of in the barn. Ritchie Meyers, the boy who was originally hired to take care of the horses, had made it clear that he found the barn to be spacious, modern, and well-equipped. Since his accident, his father had attended to his chores for this week while I tried to find a replacement; I think he felt bad for letting me down, even though it wasn't his fault. So the barn was clean, with fresh hay spread in the stalls, and fresh water in the troughs.

Ponyboy and Sodapop went to the horses immediately. I grabbed a few carrots from the bag by the door and went to join them. "These will help you make friends," I said, handing one to each boy. I had learned the value of bribing my way into the animal's good graces only after a painful nip on my hand.

"This is Thunderbolt," I told Ponyboy. "The name is actually misleading, because he's the mildest of all the horses; his name came from the little thunderbolt on his forehead. See it?"

Ponyboy nodded. "Who's a handsome boy, then?" he crooned to the huge black gelding, who nuzzled his hand in search of another carrot. I handed Ponyboy one, and turned to the next stall.

"This is Honey," I told Sodapop. "She's the meanest of the horses, so watch out."

"But she's beautiful," he protested, feeding the mare a carrot and rubbing her velvety nose.

"I agree, she is. I'm just telling you, her name came from the color of her coat, not her disposition. Besides, don't they say 'pretty is as pretty does?' I'm sure that goes for horses, too," I told him dryly. I handed him another carrot and moved on to the third occupied stall.

"This is Goldie. You can see that she was named after her coloring, too. She's not as mean as Honey, but she's not as docile as Thunderbolt, either. Sort of in between." Darry came and stood beside me, so I handed him the carrot and watched as he fed it to Goldie. Since that notable occasion with Honey, I had been wary of letting my fingers get too close to a horses mouth, but he didn't seem to have any qualms. He had nice hands, capable and sure.

"So, Ponyboy," I said, recalling his attention. He gave me a quick nod to show that he was listening, but most of his attention remained with the horses. I was actually kind of glad to see it; it meant that he really did like horses.

"If you decide to take the job, you'll be responsible for these three horses," I told him, turning away to look at the horses as I spoke. "You'll feed and water them; they are each on a slightly different, vet-recommended diet, which you'll find written here -" I pointed to the clipboards, which fit in a slot in the front of the stalls. "Mostly it's just a matter of different amount of supplements to add to the daily oats – vitamins and what-not. If you have any questions, Mr. Meyers, who has taken care of them since his son's accident, can probably help you; if he doesn't know, we'll ask the vet.

"The individually modified amounts of exercise they need is probably the biggest difference between them. They should all be ridden daily; the tack is in the next room, and each horse has his/her own, which is labelled. I'm not worried about the exact times you ride them, except not in the hottest hours between eleven a.m. and four p.m. You can do it all in the early morning, all in the late afternoon, or split it up, as you prefer. The riding times on the charts are minimums; if you want to and your duties allow, you can ride longer, as long as the horses are not overly tired.

"All stalls are to be cleaned daily, and new hay provided. There are bales of hay in the loft -" I pointed to the ladder - "and it will be your responsibility to drag them to the edge and drop them down. Also, you will break open the bales of hay, and when you do, all string and baling wire must be disposed of properly. Otherwise, the horse have a tendency to try to eat it. Used hay will be placed in the wheelbarrow and taken out the north door -" I indicated it, "- where it will be dumped in the compost pile. Do you have any questions?"

I turned back towards them, suddenly aware that they were all staring at me.

**Just a couple of notes. In the last chapter, I quoted a salary that probably sounds pretty meager to those of you born in the eighties and nineties. But when this story took place, around 1969, the median salary for hourly workers was $114/week. So Pony's wages actually would compare favorably with what his brothers were making, especially with the bonus added in.**

** The actress who married a prince would of course be the beautiful and classy Grace Kelly. **

**I know this chapter (and probably the next) seem a little dry, but I'm trying to set the background for Pony's job, which will be the source of the excitement.**

** Did I sound like I know something about horses? I confess, I do not. As always, reviews would be much appreciated.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

** Chapter Five**

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** Ponyboy's POV**

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Olivia looked at us, her eyes wide. "What?" she asked, on account of not understanding why we were staring at her.

"Uhm – it's just that you don't sound like someone who doesn't know much about horses," I said. Soda had turned back to Honey, stroking her muzzle and murmuring to her in baby talk that always seemed to get him what he wanted from horses or girls, and Darry stood by Goldie's stall, his arms crossed over his chest. He kept his face expressionless, but I knew he was thinking about Olivia.

"Well, I memorized it," she answered. "Mr. Meyers gave me a whole list of things I needed to tell you, so I memorized it to make sure I didn't forget anything. Did you understand it?"

"Mostly, I think. I'll have to look at the feed, so I'm not totally sure about that, but I think I understand everything else."

"Oh, and speaking of the feed, you'll need to keep track of how much is there and let me know when to re-order. My brother doesn't like to keep a big supply on hand, he says it encourages vermin. So you'll need to take the truck down to the co-op and pick up an order once a week or so. I'll call it in when you tell me, and you can pick it up the next day."

"I don't like the idea of him having to drive very far on his own," Darry said, and I scowled at him. It made me sound like a baby, which I wasn't.

"Oh, no, it's just down at the highway turnoff," she told him earnestly. "Only a couple of miles. Maybe you noticed when we turned? The blue building with a tan stripe?"

Darry shook his head.

"I noticed it," I said. "On the right side of the road."

"Yes," Olivia agreed. "Well, I guess the next thing is to check and see if you can saddle the horses. Like I said, I don't know too much about them, so I made up a checklist, just so I would notice the most important items. Let's start with Thunderbolt, since he's the gentlest."

We spent the rest of the afternoon saddling and riding the horses. Soda and Two-Bit enjoyed the riding part as much as I did, and I think we also got a kick out of seeing Olivia try so hard to make sure that we did everything just right, when it was obvious that she didn't have a clue what she was doing. She sounded knowledgable earlier, but when it came to actually dealing with the horse, her inexperience showed.

The guys and I took the horses out for a ride, leaving Darry and Olivia alone. We told them we'd be gone for about an hour, and it would have been nice to believe that something would happen between them, but I knew that Darry was very cautious about girls. A beautiful Soc girl like Olivia would make him even more wary, even if he did find her really attractive.

** Olivia's POV**

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I wasn't afraid of Darry, of course. Sherri's description of Ponyboy and his family made me wary enough that I met them somewhere else rather than have them come out to the ranch. I had seen Greaser's when I went downtown, standing around on street corners, cat-calling girls and showing off their knives. There was no way I wanted one of those boys knowing where I lived and that I would be there alone.

Almost immediately, however, I knew I wasn't dealing with hoodlums with the Curtis boys and their friend Two-Bit. These boys might be a little rough around the edges, but they were good people.

Once I knew that I wanted to have Ponyboy work for me, I saw that I needed to persuade Darry to get it done. So when the other boys rode off on their horses, I turned to him and smiled, trying to hide the fact that he made me... uneasy.

"I thought that while they were gone, I could show you the options for where Ponyboy could stay, so you could see which you prefer," I said, doing my best to be gracious and charming.

He nodded, following me across the yard with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't do gracious and charming as well as I did.

I opened the door to the garage. It was dim inside, the only light coming from the small windows in the big bay doors. There were eight cars inside, my brother's babies.

"You can see that Enrico loves cars," I said, as much to break the silence as because I thought he actually cared. "Sometimes, I think, more than he loves me."

"Enrico's your brother?" he asked; perhaps the quiet seemed oppressive to him, too. Our footsteps seemed to echo as we walked past the cars towards the small open staircase that stood against the back wall.

"Yes," I replied. "You and he have at least one thing in common, you know."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

I smiled at him over my shoulder as we started up the stairs. "You were both orphaned as very young men and had to take custody of your younger siblings. You, with Ponyboy and Sodapop, Enrico with me. You had two to take care of, but I would be willing to bet that Enrico would tell you that girls are a lot more trouble than boys."

"How old were you? When your parents died, I mean?"

"My mother died when I was three," I answered. "I have no memories of her at all. My father died in a car accident when I was twelve. Enrico was twenty-one, and taking over the care of a young girl wasn't easy for him." We reached the landing, and I pulled my keys out of my pocket, fumbling for the keyhole in the gloom.

It seemed to take forever, and I couldn't understand what was wrong with me; rarely if ever was I this clumsy. Finally the key turned in the lock, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when I was able to open the door. I reached beside the door and flipped the switches; not only the room in front of me but the garage below us suddenly glared with light. "Why is the light switch for the garage up here?" he asked, puzzled, as he followed me into the room.

A brief chuckle escaped me. "The man who last lived in this house before Enrico bought it was very eccentric," I said, moving away from the door. He believed that if he left the light switches accessible, his servants and family – there didn't seem to be any difference in his mind, except he had to pay the servants – would drive him into bankruptcy by wasting electricity. So he went to a lot of expense to have everything rewired. The light switch for the big room below – it was a storage room for feed, back then – is up here, and there's another switch in the main house, by the kitchen door, to turn them on."

Darry laughed. "That's weird," he commented. "Was he a relative of yours?"

"No, in fact, he was the great-uncle of the man whose son was supposed to be caring for the horses this summer," Olivia said with a shrug. "The house was reputed to be haunted, and was really decrepit when Enrico bought it at a tax sale. He spent a fortune fixing it up."

Losing interest in the story of eccentric landowners, Olivia turned to the room they had come to inspect.

It was a rectangle, perhaps twelve by fourteen; not a large area, but not so small as to be uncomfortable. Along the wall to their right, a sheet-covered sofa stretched underneath a row of windows. In front of them, under another row of windows, was a bed, also covered by a dust-cloth, and an end table. In the corner between the bed and sofa, a small table held a television set with a rabbit-ear antenna perched atop it. On the wall to their left was a small counter with a sink, with cupboards above and below. Further along that wall were two doors which stood ajar, revealing a bathroom and a closet, respectively.

"It would need cleaning," she said doubtfully.

"Yes, but it would be a comfortable space for Ponyboy," Darry said quietly. "He'd like that, I think: it would be the first place he's ever had that was really his."

"Does he not have a room in your house" I asked, tentatively, not certain exactly what he meant.

He smiled. "Yes, but that's a room in someone else's house," he said quietly. "A room given to him, paid for by someone elses work. This - " he gestured around "- would be his, paid for by his own labor. To Pony, it will be an entirely different thing, because he's felt for a long time as though he's being selfish, taking everything from the family and giving nothing back. It's not true, but that's how he feels."

"Oh," I said, comprehension coming to me. "Oh, how good it is, that you're close enough to him to understand that about him."

He looked at me and our eyes met for a long moment. _How did I ever think his eyes were arctic?_ I wondered. _They are blue, yes, but a kind smiling blue._ He took a step towards me, then stopped, his face changing, hardening.

"But I don't suppose you and your brother had any money problems, after you lost your parents," he said, his voice cold. I thought it was an effort to remind himself more than me of the social gulf between us.

"No," I replied. "Other problems but not financial ones."

Outside we could hear his brothers and their friend laughing as they came back from their ride. Darry turned his head towards the window. "We should be heading back," he said with perfect politeness. It was the same tone he had used when he first answered the door this morning.

"Yes," I answered. "I suppose we should."

* * *

**I had not really intended a romance here when I started this story. As every author knows, however, we're never in complete control of our characters and these two just insist on making googly eyes at each other every time I put them in a scene together. So what do you think? Should I allow them their moments, or should I discipline them more sternly and appoint chaperones?  
**

**Review and let me know if you like it. Now that I have my other story (not The Outsiders, alas) caught up with this one as far as number of chapters, I'm going to try to alternate, which means I should be able to update 2-3 times per week. Reviews help to keep me focused, though, and I love each of them!**


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter Six**

* * *

_Ponyboy's POV_

* * *

When we got back to the barn, we could see Darry and Olivia walking towards us. I dismounted, watching them closely. I didn't expect them to be holding hands or anything, but I did think they might show signs of... something. But no. Nada, zilch. In fact, from the stiffness of their posture and the way Darry kept his distance, I would say things were worse between them now than when we left. I hope they didn't fight, because I really would like this job.

"Hey, where did you two go?" Soda asked, when they were in earshot.

"I wanted to show Darry where Ponyboy would be staying so he could see that it was adequate," Olivia replied.

"Oh, Pony's room," Soda said, giving Darry a teasing smile. I thought I was probably not the only one who had noticed that Darry liked Olivia. Big brother scowled, and I quickly spoke up.

"So, was it ok? The room, I mean?"

"It was fine," Darry said, still glaring at Soda.

"I'm going to go to the house and make the meal I promised for you guys," Olivia said. "Since it's Sunday, there's no one else here, but I do most of the cooking myself, any way. Steaks ok?"

"Steak would be great," Two-Bit said quickly, and the rest of the guys nodded, including Darry. Steak had been a rare luxury at our house even when mom and dad had been alive; now, it was unheard of.

"Ok then, I'll get started cooking. When you're done unsaddling and grooming the horses, come up to the door by the pool and we'll eat. Then we'll talk about the job, ok?"

"That will be great, thanks. Come on, guys, help me put these horses up!"

We led the horses into the barn and began removing the tack. I watched Darry from the corner of my eye; he was helping Soda unsaddle Honey; as Olivia warned us, she was a handful. I wondered whether to say anything about the tension between him and Olivia, but I needn't have bothered. Two-Bit was here, and with him, there was no such thing as subtlety.

"So Darry," he began. "Alone with Blondie in a bedroom, huh? Anything you'd like to tell us about that, hmm?"

"No," Darry answered.

I knew the tone; it was the way Darry talked when he was putting out the 'no trespassing' signs. Two-Bit should have known, too, but evidently he either didn't, or his curiosity was too strong for him to let it go.

"Are you sure about that? She's a pretty little thing, for a Soc. Kinda prissy, maybe, with dresses down to her knees and that really proper way she talks, but you know what they always say about the proper ones, they're -"

"Shut up, Two-Bit!" I said, catching a glimpse of Darry's face.

" - the hottest when you finally get them in bed!"

Darry's fist lashed out, and suddenly Two-Bit was sitting on the floor, holding his nose which was gushing blood. There was a tense moment, with all of us too scared of making things worse to speak; then Darry strode out of the barn and went to lean on the corral fence, where I could see him muttering to himself.

"Two-Bit, you talk too much," Soda said, helping him to his feet and handing him a clean shop rag to wipe his nose.

"What'd I say?" he asked, in genuine confusion. Two-Bit was totally open about his many liaisons with blondes, and couldn't understand why anyone would be any other way.

"You wouldn't understand," I said. "Just come help put up the tack, and don't talk to Darry till he cools off."

_Olivia's POV_

I walked to the house, glad for an opportunity to think. That whole scene with Darry had really confused me. We had gotten along so well, almost like we were friends... and then suddenly, he just went cold again, like he was when we first met. What was that all about.

As I unlocked the side door and let myself into the silent, dark house, I wished Enrico was here. Maybe he could explain to me about boys. Men. Whatever Darry was.

Then I had to laugh at myself. If Enrico was here, he would be taking care of hiring someone for the horses, and I never would have met Darry.

I flipped the lights on and made my way to the kitchen. It didn't matter, I told myself, as I prepared steaks for grilling. I probably wouldn't even see Darry again, once I hired Ponyboy. He wouldn't come to see Ponyboy often, sending Sodapop instead, or he would stay in Ponyboy's room during his visits.

But as I chopped vegetables for a salad, I still couldn't help but wish I had more experience with guys. If it had been possible for me to go to high school, like a normal person, I would already know all these things. I probably would have gone on dates, maybe even been in love. I would know what it meant when a man suddenly changed, if it was something I had said, or done, to make him cold when I thought he had warmed up to me.

When the steaks were on the grill, I went to the door to see if I could see Ponyboy and his friends coming. There was no sign of them, and I hesitated. I really needed to put the french fries on, but once I had, I couldn't leave them to come back to the door. After a momentary hesitation, I got a book from one of the shelves to prop the door open with. That way, they would know where to come into the house, since there were three doors in the back of the house, not including the one by the pool. Then I went to finish the meal.

When the guys entered the house, I heard them immediately, and emerged from the kitchen to wave a them. "I'm just finishing up," I told them as they trooped down the hall towards me. "I thought we would eat in the kitchen, if you don't mind; it will make the clean up easier."

"That's fine," Ponyboy said, his eyes smiling. "It sure smells good."

"It's just simple – steak and potatoes, with a salad, but there's an apple pie for desert."

"Sounds great."

"I just need to set the table – oh, goodness, Two-Bit, what did you do to your nose?" It was bruised, and very swollen.

He looked surprised, then glanced quickly at Darry. "I – uh – I ran into a door. Yeah, that's what I did; I ran into the door to one of the stalls."

I knew he was lying just by the way he said it, but I decided not to press the issue. Enrico had told me – a long time ago – that boys often scuffled among themselves, and that it usually meant nothing, nothing at all. "Well," I said. "Sit down and I'll get some ice for it."

"I'd appreciate that," he said, casting his eyes down, looking so humble that I almost laughed. I might not know much about people, but even I could see through this!

As I wrapped some eyes cubes in a clean cloth, I wondered what really happened to his eye. Was it just casual rough-housing, or had one of the others gotten made and hit him? I doubted that I would ever know.

"Is it broken, do you think?" I asked, handing the ice to Two-Bit.

"Naw, I don't think so, just a little swollen is all."

"Well, all right," I said. "I just need to set the table, then, and get the fries out of the deep fat fryer."

"I'll help set the table," Ponyboy offered. I smiled at him quickly.

"Ok, dishes are in that cupboard, silverware is in that drawer, and glasses are up there." I pointed to each item as I spoke about it, and it took only a few minutes before the table was ready because all the guys except Two-Bit helped. I took the fries out of the deep fryer, and hooked the basket so they would drain. Then I took the steaks off of the grill and put them on a platter.

"I made enough for all of you to have two apiece," I told them. "I can't eat more than one, but Enrico, my brother, always eats two. They're pretty small."

"It smells good," Ponyboy offered as I put the fries on the plate and put it on the table between the steaks and salad.

"Thanks," I told him. Looking at the table with a critical eye, I got out salt and pepper, ketchup and steak sauce, and the butter dish. Then I sat a loaf of bread and the table, and went to the fridge for a pitcher of sweet tea.

"I think that should do it," I said. "Are you guys ready to eat?"

They were.

The food was passed efficiently, and it came as no surprise to me that the first few minutes was spent in silence except for the clink of knives and forks. Enrico never wanted to talk for the first part of a meal, either. So I waited until everyone had finished their first steak before I said, "So, Ponyboy. Do you go to high school in Tulsa?"

"Um – yes I go to Will Rogers High School," he replied politely.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

"For the most part," he answered cautiously. "It's school, you know."

"No, I don't know," I answered seriously. "I never went to highschool. I was home-schooled until I was ready for college, and by that time, the opportunity for a normal school experience had passed me by."

"Why is that? Didn't you have a normal time in college?"

I shook my head. "No. You see, I was only thirteen when I started college, and I was already academically pretty far beyond most of the basic classes. I learned pretty quickly that no one took very kindly to a 'kid' that knew more than they did, but you couldn't exactly say the experience was 'normal.'" I stared at my plate, feeling a little ashamed to admit my secret.

"Thirteen? Wow, that's young. You must be, like, a genius or something." That was Two-Bit; I somehow doubted there had ever been a time when he was lost for words.

I forced myself to smiled at him. "Yeah, kind of," I said. "So far, though, I have to admit I don't see many advantages. Except maybe that I'm twenty and need only the thesis I'm going to write this summer to finish my doctorate."

"What will you have a doctorate in?" Ponyboy asked with interest.

"Military history," I answered. "The thesis I'm writing is on the differences in battle strategies between the Napoleonic Wars and the American Civil War."

"So what kind of jobs can you get with that degree?" Two-Bit asked interestedly. The others immediately tried to hush him, but I laughed.

"You sound like my brother," I told him. "He always says that my degree and a dime will get me a cup of coffee, and he has a point. I wouldn't expect to find a lot of jobs, but there are a few. I could teach, which really doesn't appeal to me now..."

"Why not?" Ponyboy asked.

"Because I'd be younger than most of the students," I said. "I'd have trouble establishing and keeping discipline. So, though I might teach later, when I get my degree, I'll probably go to work for the government. Is everyone finished eating? Are we ready for pie?"

"Yes!" Sodapop said, with enthusiasm.

I got the pie and the ice cream, and the next few minutes were blissful. Apple pie à la mode was one of my favorite dishes. "I think maybe Rosa got the cinnamon vanilla combination right in this pie," I said. "I'll have to tell her; she's been trying for weeks to get it just right."

"Rosa is your cook?" Darry asked, his voice still quite cool.

"No, she's the neighbor who lives down the road. Her son is the one who was going to take care of the horses."

"Speaking of taking care of the horses, have you decided whether you want to hire Pony?"

"Yes, I do. I had pretty much made up my mind before we got here that if he wants the job, it's his. I just wanted to make sure that he knew enough to do it, and I've seen enough to believe he does."

Darry looked at Pony. "And do you want the job, kiddo?"

Pony nodded vigorously, and Darry sighed, then grinned at him and ruffled his hair. "I guess it will be ok, then. My only stipulations are that Soda and I can come see you anytime we have time off and that after you get your stuff here tomorrow, you aren't allowed to drive again except on ranch business. I don't want you out running around where no one is keeping track of you, Ponyboy. Got it?"

Ponyboy nodded vigorously, and I had a new employee.

* * *

_Ok, a nice long chapter, with the last of the build up to Ponyboy getting his dream job, working on a wealthy ranch, with access to all the facilities. Darry and Olivia seem to have hit a rough spot. She's turned out to be more interesting than I expected; hope you feel the same way. But maybe I should have known that Darry would go for the brainy type... _


	7. Chapter 7

** Chapter Seven**

* * *

_Olivia's POV_

I spent the next morning – Monday – helping Monica, Enrico's housekeeper, clean the room where Ponyboy would be staying. When we were finished washing everything down (including scrubbing lime deposits out of the sink – ugh!), I searched the linen closet until I found some curtains that didn't seem too formal, or too girlish. They were a pale sage green, with no ruffles or lace around the edges. I put them in a bag, along with some fresh sheets, a bedspread that was a deeper green than the curtains, and some towels and wash cloths. Monica and I finished the room just before lunch, and I have to admit, it didn't look too bad. I thought Ponyboy would be comfortable there.

Just as I was getting ready to leave, I heard a sound from downstairs. Monica had already gone back to the main house, but I thought perhaps she had forgotten something. So I called her name as I started down the stairs. No one answered, and I wondered if I would need to get an exterminator to put out traps for mice. I could see nothing untoward, but I was certain I had heard something. I came around the edge of my brother's favorite sports car – a cobalt-blue Maserati – and I heard a sound behind me. I started to turn, and that was all I remembered until I woke up on the garage floor with three worried people staring down at me.

My head was pounding, and I felt more than a little nauseated.

"What happened?" I asked, confused. I tried to sit up, and fell back with a groan; the movement had aggravated both the pain and the nausea.

"We were hoping you could tell us, _chica,_" Monica said, bending over me. "I saw Ponyboy arrive, so I came out to say hello and make sure he had everything he needed for his room. Bess was already with him by the time I got there – she saw him from the barn. When we came in here, we found you lying on the floor, unconscious. Do you remember anything?"

I lay back, frowning, not feeling ready to move yet. Last time had been too painful. "No, I – wait a minute, I do remember something. I was coming out of the room and I heard something down here. I called out, thinking you might have come back for something, Monica, but you didn't answer. I wondered if we had mice, 'cause I was sure I had heard a noise, and then I started toward the door. Then – nothing."

Monica glanced at the other two,. "Did either of you see anything?" she asked.

Pony shook his head. "No. I just pulled up, and I was just getting the suitcase out of the car when I saw

Bess come out of the barn. She waved started walking towards me, so I waited for her. We introduced ourselves, and started walking this way. We saw this lady -" Ponyboy looked at Monica "- I'm sorry, I don't know your name – come out of the house just as we got to the door. We waited for her, then Bess opened the door, and we saw you."

"I am Monica, querida," she told him. "I am the housekeeper here. Bess, did you come here today with your papa'?"

"Um, yes. Daddy wanted to meet the new boy you hired, make sure that he knew where everything was and all. I rode over with him, just to get away from hearing Tad complain about his leg."

"You should be nicer to him," I said from my place on the floor. "A broken leg hurts." The nausea was receding now; in another minute or two, I might be ready to get up. Ponyboy knelt beside me, and I became aware, belatedly, that my skirt had ridden up to the middle of my thighs, revealing much more of my legs that I wanted seen.

"Yes, but not so much that I need to wait on him hand and foot. Miss Olivia, you're bleeding. Did you hit your head?"

"I think it's more likely that someone hit me on the head," I said, sitting up slowly. I felt a little dizziness, but nothing major, and the pain did not increase – at least, not until I put my hand to the back of my head. Just as Bess said, I was bleeding; my fingers came away painted scarlet, almost seeming to glow in the dim lights of the garage. "The cut is almost on the top of my head, see? If I had fallen, it would be further down the side."

"But... why would anyone want to do that," Bess asked, confused.

"I have no idea. A thief, maybe? Are any of the cars missing?" I reached a hand up, and Ponyboy helped me to my feet. I rose gingerly, but no increase in nausea plagued me, and I leaned against the closest car in what I hoped was an unobtrusive way.

"No, _chica, _they are all here," Monica glanced around. "In fact, I don't see anything missing or damaged."

"Bess, is your dad still here?" I asked.

"Yes, he's in the barn, checking on the don't think he hit you over the head, do you?"

"No. I think we ought to go check on him. If there's a thief here -" Bess looked upset as she took my meaning.

"I'll go with you," Ponyboy said, and took a tire iron from the rack of tools. "Just in case," he muttered, glancing at me.

I waved him on taking a weapon seemed like a sensible precaution to me.

* * *

_Ponyboy's POV_

* * *

Bess and I went towards the barn. I held the tire-iron like I would a knife, in a firm grip, so that I could slash with it if necessary, but out in front of me so hat I could jab with it if I needed to. Tim Sheperd would have been proud to see my good form, but it ended up not mattering; the only person in the barn was Bess's father, who immediately started grumbling at her.

"Where have you been girl? I brought you with me so you could help me, not go off gallivanting around!"

Bess rushed to him. "Oh, daddy, you're all right!" she said.

He looked surprised. "Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, a confused expression on his face.

"Somebody hit Miss Olivia over the head and knocked her out," she told him.

"What? Is she all right?"

"She seems to be. Have you seen anyone else around? Anyone who could have done that?" I asked him.

"No, but I've been in the barn the whole time, working with the horses," he answered. "Are you the boy who's going to be looking after them?"

"Yes," I said. There was something about him that I didn't like; he gave me an assessing look that seemed almost insulting, as though he were looking for something to complain about. "Kinda small, aren't you? Are you sure you're up to the work?"

I nodded, trying to make it respectful, although I resented him asking. It wasn't any off his business, really. But at some point I might need his help, so I didn't want to run him off for nothing more than being a little nosy.

Bess felt otherwise. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "He's not any smaller than Matt, and you were sure _he_ could do the work. In fact, only three days ago, you tried to convince Miss Olivia that I could do it, and I'm nowhere _near_ as big as Ponyboy.

She was right about that. She was a little bit of a girl, maybe five-two or -three. But she sure was pretty, anyway, with kinda sandy blond hair and nice hazel eyes. Now, though, with her father standing right here, I didn't think it was time for me to be thinking too much about that.

"Yes, but you've been around horses all your life. Experience counts. How much experience do you have, uh -" It was obvious that he couldn't remember my name... if he'd ever known it.

I let the pause go on for just a little longer than was strictly polite. Then I said, "My name is Ponyboy, Mr Meyers, and I told Miss Conti what my experience was when she interviewed me for the job."

He didn't like that, and for a minute, I thought I was going to have to defend myself when he took a swing at me. My hand tightened on the tire iron, which would certainly come in handy if I was going to fight with a guy who was six inches taller and probably seventy-five pounds heavier. He glanced at the tool, and his eyes widened.

"What's that all over your hand?" he asked.

I looked down at my hand where it gripped the tire iron; blood, thick and sticky, covered my palm.

* * *

**So now we're getting into the mystery. Who hit Olivia over the head, and why? Whose blood is on the tire iron?**

**I'd appreciate any reviews, positive or otherwise. Let me know what you liked or disliked about the story, so I can fix any problems and continue the stuff you like. Thanks.  
**


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